Candy
by Cissa DeLancome
Summary: Clyde knows that too much candy will give you cavities. CartmanxClyde - oneshot - slash


**Title:** Candy  
**Author:** Natalie  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** South Park belongs to Matt Stone and Trey Parker, maybe Comedy Central, too. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Summary: **Clyde knows that too much candy will give you cavities.  
**Notes:** For **Loca Bambina**, my Cartman/Clyde buddy! This isn't actually the drabble I said I was going to finish, but I was re-watching CxC moments like you suggested, and in episode 808 there's this part where Cartman tries to bribe Clyde with candy, which I thought was cute. I know this one is kind of short and ambiguous, but at least it's much tamer than what resulted from the last time I was inspired from an actual episode. ;)

* * *

_Candy_

"Come on, Clyde…"

Cartman tugs on Clyde's sleeve, trying to get his attention. Well, he already _has_ Clyde's attention, really. Clyde's just trying his hardest to ignore him. Which is kind of hard when it's just the two of them in an empty classroom after school, the person he's trying to ignore being who he is.

Cartman pulls Clyde towards him, and Clyde limply complies. Usually what the bigger boy wants, he gets.

He places a heavy hand on Clyde's shoulder and rubs it down his arm in a soothing motion. He uses his other hand to tilt the slightly shorter boy's chin up, but Clyde looks down, purposely averting his eyes.

The sunlight filters in through the blinds, leaving wide lines of light and shadow on the walls and floor. Clyde studies them until he can't ignore the other boy so close to him anymore, and passively brings his gaze up to Cartman.

Cartman doesn't speak, just smiles in a way that would be reassuring, if he didn't know Cartman. Surprisingly nimble fingers slip down Clyde's neck to his shoulder and proceed to knead it lightly. It sort of hurts, but Clyde doesn't say anything.

Then Cartman gets real close, and Clyde feels his breath catch, and he holds it. He's tense, anticipating the next move. It's always like this; a game of cat and mouse—stealthy predator and unwary prey.

Except Clyde isn't so naive this time around. He knows how the game works.

Cartman presses his lips to his, and Clyde exhales silently, melts inside. His lips part, and Cartman goes to work, forgoing the massage to run his thick hands down Clyde's back, gripping his hips tightly. Clyde hisses quietly when the other boy bites his lip, but Cartman knows he likes it.

It's like when your dentist tells you, too much candy will give you cavities. Only you can't pretend it's not there because it is, and even though it's bad for you, it's way too good to give up.

Clyde thinks maybe it's sort of like that.

Suddenly it's over, Clyde's mouth is tingling and his head is spinning for lack of air—and other things he would rather not address right now. He's panting slightly and Cartman licks his lips, watching him hazily. Cartman moves in again, and Clyde shuffles uneasily and looks away because despite himself, he knows he wants more.

What he doesn't know is how far he wants to go.

Cartman's actually pretty perceptive, and sensing the added hesitation, he backs off.

"It's getting late."

Before stepping back, he takes Clyde's right hand and gently rubs the sensitive skin of his wrist with his index finger, shooting prickles up Clyde's skin. He slips something small and crinkly into his hand, but Clyde doesn't really register this because Cartman leans in again, invading his personal space to breathe in his ear, inhaling Clyde's scent. The thought alone is dizzying and makes something twist and flutter in Clyde's stomach, but before he knows it Cartman's walking away, swinging a backpack over one bulky shoulder.

"See you around, Clyde," he says casually, shooting the boy behind him a final smirk.

When door closes softly, Clyde's lips are still moist and parted. He realizes he's clutching something tightly in his hand, and opens his fist to see a little butterscotch candy in his slightly sweaty palm. He unwraps it delicately, observing the glossy golden color for a moment before popping it into his mouth. His eyes close and he surrenders to the sensation as the saccharine flavor hits his tongue.

He rolls his tongue around it, slowly, savoring it, and Clyde knows it's too late.

It just tastes too sweet.

_-fin-_


End file.
